Letter to My Son
by dstrekharrylover
Summary: A dying Zarabeth writes a letter to her son by Spock detailing how they met and how he came to be.


_LETTER TO MY SON_  
_By JM Lane  
_

Zarabeth was dying, and what's more, she knew it. In only a matter of hours she would be dead, her body as cold as the ice cave in which she had lived for so many years.

Her son Zar was out hunting for their dinner and would be home soon…but there would be no opportunity to say goodbye to him, for she would be dead before he returned. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving her beloved son alone in this desolate arctic wasteland with only his thoughts and memories for company.

That prompted her to relive in her mind the many years she had survived here alone, until she had happened upon the two men from the future and had taken them into her cave home. Each had been attracted to her, but the one she herself had been drawn to was the one with greenish-gold skin, black hair and elegantly pointed ears…a Vulcan, as his Human companion had later informed her.

Zarabeth had never told Zar of the circumstances which had led to his birth, who his father had been or how she had met him. She had been far too busy raising him, teaching him to survive in their bitterly cold environment, not to mention educating him as best she could with the books she had. He could read and write, even figure to a certain extent—but without more educational material, that was as much as she could do for him.

He had been the main thing keeping her going, the only thing which had made her lonely life even passably worthwhile. For that reason he deserved to know the truth from her before it was forever too late.

Because of her imminent death, she would never get another chance to tell him personally…and moreover,  
he needed to know in the event his father learned of his existence and came to search for him, possibly to take him back to the future world where he lived.

_ Oh Spock, if only you could have stayed, _she thought sadly, her eyes filling with tears at the thought  
of the kind and gentle man whom she had known for  
but a short time, but nonetheless had come to love deeply. Even now she could close her eyes and see his handsome, smiling face as clearly as though he stood before her.

_ I'm not blaming you; I know you had to go in order to save your friend the Doctor…but you brought such warmth and love into my life—and when you left, it was gone with you. I miss you so much…and never have I stopped loving you._

Even though I will never see you again, I have cherished every moment we spent together these many years--the memories of you, your sweet smile, your loving touch and passionate kisses…your warm, gentle hands caressing me, your lips intimately exploring my body—but most of all  
the memories of feeling you inside me, your body possessing mine, our tenderly passionate lovemaking  
…and our son. He looks and acts so much like you, beloved. You would be so proud of him.

Tears blurred her vision as she reached for the parchment, ink and pen, sitting down on her fur bed to write. She wrote as fast as she could, as clearly as she was able—and soon bittersweet memories, images of that long-ago day came rushing back to fill her conscious mind.

Zarabeth paused several times to rest her writing hand, but was determined to get everything possible down in black and white for her son…for when he returned to find her gone. Words were inadequate to express her love for him or stem his grief at her death, but they were all she had..so they would have to suffice.

_ My Darling Boy, _she wrote. _By the time you find this I will be dead, so I must tell you the story of how you came to be—who your father was—so you will understand why he could not be with us or see you grow up._

_ I first met him and his companion when I rescued them from a blizzard. I went outside and found them, gesturing to the tall, slender man to follow me, marveling at how easily he carried his full-grown companion. He followed me into the cave, placing his unconscious friend down on a fur bed, then covering him with more furs._

_ His finely sculptured face reflected concern for his friend's well-being, whom he said was a doctor. The latter was unconscious for many hours; we cared  
for him as best we could. He suffered from severe exposure and frostbite, but we determined that he would not lose any fingers, toes or limbs. The first words I recall saying were: "What is your name and how did you come to be here? I have never seen anyone like you, so you cannot be of this planet."_

_ His velvety brown eyes looked through me. "I am called Spock…and no, I am not of this planet. I am from a different star system altogether." He wondered if there was any way for them to return to their own time; I knew of none, saying as much and relating what had happened to me; how I had come to be here._

_ I eventually removed my long fur coat and began to unlace my boots and leggings. An appreciative look came into the handsome stranger's eyes at the sight of me; I was understand- ably pleased. Of course I have to admit that I looked him over in much the same way._

Tall, handsome and slender, his complexion was a greenish-gold and his ears were beautifully, elegantly shaped, coming to perfect points. His black hair was smooth and cut to fit the shape of his head.

_ Both he and his companion wore blue shirts with some kind of insignia on them and gold braid on the sleeves as well as black pants and knee-high boots—a uniform, as I later learned._

Spock was a Commander in rank, filling the dual roles of First and Science Officer on the starship  
he called Enterprise. His voice was deep, richly masculine; I believe it was then that I first fell in love with him, though I dared not mention it until I knew for certain how he felt toward me.

_ His companion, whom Spock said was named Leonard McCoy, was somewhat older, brown-haired, blue-eyed and Human. Slender too, though he looked to be heavier and shorter than his friend. As for Spock, I wasn't sure what he was. He wasn't Human, that much I was certain of…though he was of a Humanoid species. Several hours passed before the older Human, the Doctor, awakened; Spock and I were there with him._

_ Dr. McCoy looked at Spock. "What happened, Spock? Where are we?" After Spock told him, he smiled and thanked me for helping them. I smiled back and introduced myself. "Zarabeth," he repeated. "A lovely name for a lovely woman. Oh yes—I'm afraid that Spock here has been practicing medicine without a license…and I'm the doctor around here, Spock. Remember that." _

_ A pained look came over Spock's face. "Yes, Doctor," he replied patiently. When I looked at the Doctor again, I saw the same light in his eyes which had been in Spock's earlier. Later, I would learn that this was unnatural for Spock. His life, thoughts and actions were almost entirely governed by logic. What emotion he did show usually came from his Human side._

_ The Doctor informed me between bites of food that Spock was half-Human, the offspring of a Vulcan father and Human mother. I knew of Vulcan and Vulcans, but had never met or associated with one before._

The Doctor was as attracted to me as Spock was—but I had eyes only for Spock. Doctor McCoy smiled again and said, "I'm sure you'll find our approaches very different, since Spock isn't exactly skilled when it comes to women."

_ I smiled at Spock and replied, "I didn't notice  
any difference." The Doctor looked very surprised, looking first at Spock, then back at me. Spock just raised an eyebrow at both of us, admonishing McCoy to lie down and get more rest after finishing his dinner._

_ "Zarabeth, you're a beautiful cook," he enthused. "Has anyone ever told you that?"_

_ "Not recently," I replied. After that he lay back down and slept again. Spock said he was hungry after we walked into the next room. I led him to a bowl of cooked meat; he frowned when I motioned him to eat._

_ "That is animal flesh. Vulcans are vegetarians."_

_ "I'm afraid there isn't much here in the way of luxuries," I apologized._

_ "No apology is necessary, Zarabeth. It is not your fault. If that is all that is presently available for nourishment, I shall simply have to make the best  
of it. I can build a greenhouse to grow vegetables later."_

_ "Please eat something," I said._

_ He smiled. "If it will please you." He picked up a piece of meat, raised it to his lips and gingerly took a bite of it. I could tell he wasn't used to it, though his hunger eventually overcame his revulsion. He ate several pieces hungrily. _

_ Moments later he got up and began to walk  
away, then turned around, looking at me with an expression which was a mixture of anger and question. "I don't understand what's happening to me. I ate animal flesh and I enjoyed it. What's wrong with me?" I could see no change in him, nothing wrong whatsoever. "You are so lovely… Forgive me. Disregard that; I am not myself."_

_ I then told him of how ZorKhan had banished me here and that he had provided me with everything I needed to live—except companionship. He didn't want it said that he'd had me killed--but if being condemned to a life of loneliness wasn't death, what was? I asked Spock if he knew how it felt to be lonely._

_ His voice was quiet, somber. "Yes, Zarabeth, I know only too well…and it is unfortunate that such  
a beautiful woman as you should be condemned to  
a life of loneliness—and you are beautiful. Is it so wrong to tell you so?" He started told me; my heart began pounding wildly in my breast and my cheeks flushed._

_ "I've so longed to hear you say it." _

_ He brought me close with one arm, smiling tenderly and raising my face to his to give me a deep, thrilling kiss. I never wanted it to end, had never known that any man's lips could make me  
feel such ecstasy; then he swept me off my feet  
and into his arms._

"More beautiful than any dream I've ever dreamed," he said just before kissing me again. I locked my arms around his neck as he carried me  
to my bed of furs. We lowered ourselves carefully down onto it…

As Zarabeth finished writing the last word, sharp pain stabbed through every cell of her emaciated body. She forced herself to ignore it and continue writing. What few medicines she possessed had long since ceased to have any effect on the progress of the disease ravaging her—the pain that had wracked her body for the past six weeks.

She decided to keep her memories of Spock and their lovemaking to herself. They were much too private to tell even her own son about…so she would only tell him of the beginning and end of it. The rest would die with her.

_ Oh, how I wish he could have remained with  
me always! It was during this time that you were conceived, my darling. Afterward Spock just held  
me close, cradling my head on his chest as his lips tenderly kissed my temple, one hand ruffling my hair as I ran my fingers through the hair on his chest._

_ This was when we laughed together. His was so beautiful, even musical—but he confessed that normally he would rarely even smile, much less laugh. I couldn't believe that, but did not dispute him._

Somehow I sensed that here and now was all  
we had, was all we would ever have…even as I prayed that I was mistaken. I vowed to make it  
last as long as possible since we were so happy,  
so deeply in love.

There, that was done. Now all that remained was telling Zar the conclusion of her bittersweet tale—her precious, all-too-brief final moments of happiness with his father. So many years ago, yet she could remember  
it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. She blinked back unbidden tears, wincing as more pain shot through her and clutching her pen tightly until the pain subsided.

_ Not long afterward we heard Dr. McCoy stirring in the next room; we dressed quickly. When the Doctor entered the room he glared at Spock first, then at me. I couldn't understand why, nor could I bring myself to speak. How thankful I was for your father's arm around me. It made me feel safe and secure, like nothing could ever hurt me as long as  
he was there._

_ "Spock, you haven't been honest with me. That isn't like you. Nor is it like you to give up trying simply because someone tells you it's impossible." The Doctor's voice was cold, his blue eyes icy._

_ "That is immaterial, Doctor, since it is a fact. We cannot return; get that through your head. Zarabeth explained it to me and she has no reason to lie."_

_ "I can't believe you said that, Spock," McCoy shot back. "She has every reason to lie! She would do literally anything to save herself from a life of loneliness—even murder me to keep you here with her. And from the looks of you, you not only want  
to stay, but are highly motivated to stay!"_

_ "That is my business, Doctor. Besides, the prospect seemed attractive enough to you not so long ago," Spock pointed out coldly._

_ "Dammit, Spock, we can't stay here, you know that. We must find Jim, get back to the ship and away from this place before that sun goes nova  
and fries us all!"_

_ Spock was stone-silent, unmoving or speaking as he kept a protective arm around me. McCoy turned toward me with fire in his eyes. "Why don't you tell Spock the truth, Zarabeth?—that it isn't that we cannot return, it's that you cannot return!"_

_ "I can only tell you what I know," I protested._

_ "Don't you mean what you choose to tell us?" McCoy threw back, grabbing my face, then shaking me, his insane anger making him abnormally strong and hurting me. It ended as abruptly as it began when Spock grabbed by the Doctor by the throat  
and slammed him against the cave wall._

"Do you really intend to kill me, Spock?" he taunted. "I can just guess what you're feeling right now. Jealousy, anger…even the urge to kill. Tell me, have you ever felt like that before?"

_ That seemed to bring Spock back to himself; he released McCoy's throat and backed away in horror. "This is wrong. I should not be doing this. I am a Vulcan…"_

_ "The Vulcan you were won't exist for another five thousand years!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Think, Spock! What's happening on Vulcan right now, at this very moment—even as we speak?"_

_ Spock looked as though he were in pain; at that moment I think I really could have killed McCoy for speaking so. "I have lost myself. I don't know who I am any more."_

_ "Spock, I can understand if you want to stay. That's your prerogative…but I have a life on the Enterprise--and I want that life." With that, he grabbed a fur and left._

_ "Doctor!" we both called, to no avail. I hastily donned my coat, boots and leggings; Spock threw  
a fur around his shoulders and we went after the Doctor, pleading with him to come back inside, for he would surely die in the cold—but I doubt he heard us in the howling wind and blowing snow. We eventually found him feeling his way along the cliff face for the portal he and Spock had come through._

_ "Doctor, nothing is there. It's hopeless," Spock said, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the cliff face._

_ "You may have given up, Spock, but I haven't," the Doctor retorted as he threw off Spock's restraining hand and resumed his search. _

_ It was then that I caught the sound of a third voice—another man whom Spock called "Captain!" and McCoy called "Jim!"_

"_Spock! Bones! Are you there? Do you hear me? " the voice called._

_ At their reply the voice said, "Follow my voice. I'll guide you to the portal." I kept tight hold of Spock's hand as we moved. They finally found the portal…then the voice said, "You have to come back now or never!" Spock pushed the Doctor toward the portal, but nothing happened._

"_It won't work, Jim!"_

"_What's wrong?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_I'll find out," the voice promised, departing for  
a few seconds, then returning. "Mr. Atoz says you have to come through together for it to work, since you went through it together." A terrible pain pierced my heart at the words as my grip tightened._

_ Spock released my hand and took my face in his hands. "I don't want to leave you. You must come with me!"_

"_Come on, Spock! Time's running out!" McCoy called apprehensively. _

_ Spock looked at me with love and pain in his eyes._

"_I cannot return with you. If I went through the portal, I would die," I told him as tears blurred my vision. My heart was breaking, but I knew I had to let him go, let him return to the future world where he belonged._

Spock pulled me close for one last kiss, a kiss which was both agony and ecstasy, then disappeared through the portal with Dr. McCoy. I knew I would never forget the sweet taste of his final kiss, just as I knew in my heart that I would never see him again.

_ I stood there alone in the icy wind and blowing snow, my cheeks wet with tears and not even feeling the cold. All the warmth and light in my life had gone with him. The pain inside me was almost unbearable; I wanted only to lie down and die. Eventually I turned around and went back inside  
the cave, throwing myself on my bed and crying for hours._

_ I grieved for my lost love, the life together we could never share—and at the prospect of returning to my lonely, solitary life after having known such unbelievable happiness. As I cried myself to sleep, I sent up a fervent prayer that something would come of our night together… that I would bear my beloved a child—a son with his beautiful eyes and ears, brilliant brain and even more beautiful body._

_ Just over nine months later you arrived, my son…the answer to all my prayers, the very image of your father! I was ecstatic when I learned I was pregnant, but unutterably sad because your father would not be here to share that special moment and time with me—that I would have to give birth to you alone._

_ I will not bore you with the gory details of your actual birth; suffice it to say that once I held you in my arms and put you to my breast for the first time,  
I knew that all the pain had been worth it. I couldn't believe how perfect and beautiful you were…or that you were really mine. At that moment I vowed to do my utmost to make you a son your father would be proud to claim as his own. _

_ In closing, my son, I wish to say this: should your father return one day and meet you, I pray that you will love each other as I loved you—both of you. I now bid you an affectionate farewell, my darling child. Remember me always._

_Your Loving Mother,_

_Zarabeth_

Zarabeth had barely finished writing her name when she stiffened, dropped the pen and fell limply back on the furs.

An hour later Zar returned with his freshly killed prey, calling out for his mother. "Mother, I have returned." There was no reply. "Mother, where are you? Are you all right?" By now he sensed something was wrong due to the ominous silence and went to investigate, leaving his kill at the mouth of the cave. He stopped in the doorway of his mother's room, frozen with grief and horror at the sight of her lying sprawled on her fur bed, dead.

He rushed to the bed, shaking her. "Mother, wake up! Speak to me!" Zar called out desperately, tears in his voice—but nothing he did could rouse her. His mother was gone from him forever…gone into the next world. He was alone.

The letter Zarabeth had written was momentarily forgotten by her grief-stricken son, the pen and ink bottle lying where they had landed after she had fallen back and died. Zar gathered his mother's still-warm body into his arms, his tears bathing her cheeks.

"Mother! Oh, gods, Mother, please don't leave me!  
I love you—I need you!"

The only warmth he had ever known in his short life was his mother's love…and now it was gone. For the umpteenth time he wished that his father could have been with him to share his pain, soothe the grief he was feeling at Zarabeth's passing and the even worse loneliness he would endure without her.

He eventually managed to compose himself, tenderly carrying her body to the nearby ice cave they had chosen some weeks earlier for burial purposes, carefully placing her on one of the two shelves of ice on either side of the doorway. He folded her hands on her breast after covering her with a fur, eyes once again blurring with tears as he stood gazing at her.

Zar was oblivious of the passage of time until an icy gust of wind struck him and he realized it had grown dark. Time for him to leave. The youth was loathe to seal the ice tomb where his mother's body lay, but knew he must…even though he would never look upon her face again or hear her warm voice speak to him. He would have to somehow content himself with his memories of her.

He was exhausted with grief when he reached the cave he had shared with his mother and now inhabited alone, perspiring from the exertion of moving the large boulder near the door of the ice-tomb sufficiently to keep her safe from any and all intruders who might desecrate her last resting place. A wave of almost unbearable loneliness struck him as he entered the cave dwelling; it was so dark, cold and empty without her.

He entered her room and reverently straightened it up, smoothing the furs on her bed as though Zarabeth was only in the next room cooking his dinner. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the empty ink bottle and pen, picking them up before he stepped on them. She obviously been writing something just before she died. Had it been a letter? A letter to _him_?

It had to be—oh gods, it just had to! But where had he put the thin parchment pages? Zar finally spotted the crinkled papers lying on the low table near the head of the bed where he had absent-mindedly placed them after picking them up from where they had scattered over bed and floor.

He'd had no idea of what they were at the time, thinking only of the fact that his mother had died. He  
had known she was dying, but never dreamed it would happen so soon…and worst of all, happen when he  
was not there to be with her, hold her in his arms as she passed from one world to the next. If she had to die, why couldn't it have been in the arms of the son who loved her?

He set the pen and ink bottle on the low table, departing Zarabeth's room for his own to read the closely written pages he held in his hand. The writing blurred as tears again misted his eyes at the sight of her fine hand. He blinked them back and began to read. "My Darling Boy…"


End file.
